The Mutants Next Door
by starlight2twilight
Summary: Solving mutant/human relations via reality tv. A look into the lives of the mutants who live in the mansion.
1. Come on to a mahhh house!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Marvel. Do they have stock? Or Playboy. Or the concept behind reality tv shows. Or VH1 or TeleCom or whatever the heck owns that. And.. And Joe is mine. Not like THAT, but in all honesty, I ripped him off of Aqua Teen Hunger Force. But renamed him Joe instead of Carl. So picture Carl. :)

**FYI**

_means telepathic thoughts that other telepaths can read. In this story, you will be a telepath! Mmmkay?_

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**Author's Babble:** Honestly, it was way better in my mind. I do have a sick sense of humor. But review. Review. REVIEW! Tell me you love it. Tell me you hate it. Tell me you think I have some "problems"! I WANT IT ALL! .. because if you don't, I will not continue this. I seriously won't. Don't test me. :)

Also, I will shamelessly pimp someone every chapter since I can. I will dedicate this one to an awesome person and writer named **Kinetically Charmed**. _Nevermind the Darkness_ is awesome. And it's now finished. I suggest you go read it and REVIEW once you have. Plus, I also suggest you click through her awesome blog of KITTY! Omg, it's AMAMZING. It's the best. I am pushing you to go read it. Now shoo! Go read! :)

Also, this was up earlier. You may have seen it. I deleted it in a fit of anger seeing HOW MANY PEOPLE READ IT AND DIDN"T REVIEW. ...wtf? I'm so mild mannered like Logan. SO uh, yeah. Review. I don't care if you just want to say "dude, just no." Totally okay with this.

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Xavier eyed his top right desk drawer. He hid the Xanax there. A single, well six really he did use more of his brain than your basic person, of those little pills and he would be able to handle this. Mutant relations, at best, was a tension filled baby daddy talk show. However, it was currently starting to resemble the middle of _Gangs of New York_. The clash between humans and mutants was on the brink of nuclear war. Politicians were pushing for legislation that would make life for mutants eerily reminiscent of the Holocaust. Something needed to be done.

Snapping back to reality he eyed three of his former students who were currently venting their frustrations in higher octaves as their stories progressed. Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, Jean Grey and Ororo Munroe were his four most level headed students. Their education and poise were the exact reasons they were selected by him for this delicate situation. Unfortunately, this wasn't enough. The stress from press conferences and speaking with Washington officials was starting to show. These four were on the verge of agreeing with his friend Erik Lehnsherr and his mutant philosophies. Something needed to be done.

"Friends, mutant relations has never been the most simple problem of the world. Society fears the unknown. The stigma of being a mutant is a difficult pill to swallow. I asked the four of you to be the face of mutants. To let the world know that mutants can be completely normal in appearance, or even if they appear quite different, are gentle and intelligent individuals. I wanted to show the world that there are evil humans, Hitler and Charles Manson come to mind. And yet there are also wonderful humans, such as Mother Teresa or Gandhi. To judge an individual based on "mutant" or "human" is unfair. I felt if anyone would be able to make the most closed minded individuals rethink their position on mutants, it would be you," Xavier began, speaking in a smoothing voice. Hank nodded in agreement while Scott's jaw twitched.

"However, I realize now that the most logical path is not always the correct path," the elder mutant sighed, looking at each in turn.

"What are you suggesting, professor?" Scott shouted. Jean turned to him, flashing him a small smile while slipping her hand into his.

"I'm not suggesting we start a war against humans."

"Oh" _Damn._

"I feel the path we have underestimated is the understanding of the common people. Politicians are meant to serve their constituents. We must appeal to the people."

"Professor, I do hope you reconsider this approach. I feel that the most prejudice we experience is from the everyday person. I, personally, have had things throw at me and insults tossed at my face. The experience is humiliating, especially for the numerous occasions we have saved humanity," Hank retorted, "I do not feel this is the safest option."

The weather witch nodded, "Charles, Hank is correct. Our lives will be threatened. We will be a target for Friends of Humanity."

Charles nodded, noting every objection that was presented. Their concerns were legitimate. Alas, something drastic needed to be done.

"I've discussed this with VH1. I feel the best way to smooth mutant relations is to allow cameras into the Mansion and allow humans to see how much alike we really are" Charles spoke with an air on finality. He tented his fingers and viewed the four over the tips.

The collective gasps was expected. The jaw dropping was anticipated. The paused followed by loud objections was planned. Charles merely smiled and wheeled himself out from behind his desk, "I must speak to the students. I will need signed permission, yet seeing as they must sign it in order to attend and live at the Mansion, I suppose this will not be difficult."

"I will have the contracts ready in the War Room," he called over his left shoulder, "And do mind the swearing, Scott. This is a school where children attend."

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"In conclusion, I feel that the best way to improve mutant relations is to put a face on mutants, so to speak. The mass public enjoys reality television shows; Playboy has had improved sales on their clothing line and record breaking numbers of sales when the girlfriends pose on the magazine. I am not suggesting an X-Men clothing line, however, I feel that allowing the public to be able to view our daily interactions would only benefit us. Let the world see us as how we really are: we behave very similar to humans. They can see how we train extensively to use our powers to save the world. We will be able to finally connect with the masses in a way we haven't be able to before!" Xavier smiled, looking around the shocked faces at the table. His students were.. speechless to say the least. He understood that this was a large undertaking, but improving mutant relations so that all would be able live in peace was his dream.

"Chuck, why do you know so much about Playboy?" Logan asked slowly, after the several minute silence. _Did he read my mind again?_

"Research, Logan, research. _Totally did. Oh, I sound like Kitty!_ Also, since cameras will be allowed in all areas of the mansion, I will need signed forms from every single one of you if you intend on living in the mansion. You will be able to be an X-Men and join us in battles and training, however, the free room and board will cease."

An explosion of voices as the doors closed behind Xavier. He smiled and rolled himself to his office. He knew they would sign the papers. This was their home, plus most of them were free loaders and wouldn't want to risk it. Being a telepath had perks, of course.

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"I still think this is a failure"

"Shut up, Logan. The professor feels this is the best chance for peace."

"Damn boy scout."

"LOGAN!"

"We're going to be famous!"

"Oh mah gawd!"

"Dis can't be good."

"Like, whatever! You are SOOO going to get the ladies!"

"Ah... Ah'm gonna sign it. This is mah home and ah trust 'im,"

"I've watched VH1. They put cameras in the bathroom."

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"ENOUGH!"

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Xavier handed the signed permission forms over to the sleazy looking executive. Quite frankly, he looked like a cross between Ron Jeremy and a vat of Crisco. The man, apparently just named "Joe", looked like if you touched him, one's hand would come back oily. It was, to be completely honest, repulsive and alluring. Like when someone gets pulled over by a cop, one cannot help but watch with excitement. A thick gold chain was around his neck, abet it was awful tight looking. Barely noticeable due to him fifth chin. Charles couldn't help but stare.

"So, uh, we have a deal?" _Wonder if the purple haired broad is single_. Joe began, staring at Charles through his gold aviator sunglasses.

"Of course. We will be portrayed favorably, correct?" _I hope he won't hit on Betsy. That could get violent._

"Well, some will. We will show the personalities and let the public figure that one out."

"Correction: I will be shown to be caring and non offensive," Charles bit out crisply.

Joe didn't bat an eye, "Of course, Charlie. We are understanding that. We are also going to state at the beginning of the episodes that all pay is directly given to charities, no names, but 'charities'." _This whole school is a tax write off._

"Good, we need a new hot tub. Forge turned the old one into a time machine."

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	2. Fruity Virgin Pepples

_This means telepathic thoughts or conversation._

And sorry about the long wait in Chapter 2. I'm a hot mess and an absentee parent to my work. Show lots of love to **Kinetically Charmed** for being the only reason why I posted a chapter.

And please, **LizzieTurbo**, no reason for the suicidal thoughts, bb. 3

Let's get this show on the road!

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Breakfast at the mansion was similar to O'Hare airport the day before Thanksgiving, Charles Xavier mused. Chaos. People screaming, bread flying. The smell of coffee mingling with Eggos and artificial maple syrup. People broke into groups, usually the "adults" sat together and politely discussed the current events (that they previously scoured over the internet prior to coming down in order to sound intelligent – Jean was the worst, she received her opinions from peeking into the minds of others or by reading the comments the end of an article) or the new direction of the curriculum. Needless to say, boring. Charles wasn't entirely sure if it was because HE was here and so everyone wanted to look impressive, or if they were all this boring. Scott was. Scott was as exciting as well, the conversation he was forced to be part off. Little did all parties involved know, that Charles was an expert on faking it. He nodded while people talked, followed up with a response of his response data bank (favorite: That's an interesting point, (name). I would love to hear a conflicting opinion as well, (another name). Tell me what the other side would view this as.)

And what did a world classic telepath do when he was faking it?

Pop into other conversations. And right now? To quote Jubilee, "it was going down in this bitch."

Remy was regaling the younger students with his sexcapades. And right now? Apparently the deflowering of this particular "banging bodied" woman. Charles tuned into the conversation and sent out "feelers" to see if any other residents were eavesdropping.

Yes, Miss Frost was casually "reading" a Vogue magazine, but listening with great intent and amusement. Charles settled himself back into his power chair and propped his elbows up. Time for the show.

"An dis woman, woof! Body like Scarlett Johansson. Oh, dey.. wow… dat fille made for sin, no?" he wagged his eyebrows, taking a deep swig of his coffee, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before continuing his story.

"She was hot for ole Remy. Bout like corn in da fields o' July. Slicker 'dan sweed dirt. Gonna need a prayer and a bottle to get me out o dat alive, right? So I tells her, tells her tha Remy gonna unburden her wit' dat' problem. So I goes and get her into my bed. Dat hussy was a virgin slut. COMPLETE strip tease, worked my Remy Jr. like she was being paid by da hour and she wa' in da union. Woof. And den, den what happened? HOPS ON ME! Gonna ride me like da I'm a street car in my beloved Nawlins. And den.. den we realized som'tin. See, she a VIRGIN, and virgins? Dey tight. Poor Remy Jr. almost snapped in half cuz o' her hymen. Like dat brick wall up in there. Berlin wall? Remy tryin' to get past dat. Woof. Dat wa' hard work dat night."

Emma turns her head up from her magazine, clearly appalled, "Don't you TEACH Sex Ed?"

Remy turned towards the White Queen, flashing her a grin, ""course, Cherie. Why you think dat we tal'in' like dis? Dis is extra credit!"

The chorus of snickers from the juvenile boys that surrounded him like groupies caused him to puff up his chest.

Emma rolled her eyes and turned the page in her magazine, "Than you would realize that the "hymen" or brick wall as you refer to it is actually more cresset shaped. And it isn't this magical Sryan Wrap inside the reproductive organs of a female."

"Dat not true. Remy Jr can attest dat it's some'thin' that gotta be broken tru'" Remy sneered.

Emma saw the faint flutter of information past the usual static noise of Gambit's mutation and a faint smile fluttered across her blue lips. She raised an eyebrow and crocked an eyebrow in retort, "A virgin wouldn't know that, now would he?"

Charles nodded at a comment made by Scott and continued to fake it while he privately began the "Jerry! Jerry!" cheer that he knew was suitable for this situation based on his knowledge of pop culture. #clapback anyone? He saw the flash of thoughts spew out of Gambit, and knew his cover was broken.

Remy was a virgin.

Emma, like a dog with the taste of blood, began to toy with him. A slow, sensual smile spread across her face.

"A virgin. This explains a lot. Such as your devotion to Rogue. She's a virgin as well, she wouldn't know those awkward fumblings on the sofa were due to inexperience as opposed to trying to be careful with her mutation," Emma whispered, making her way for the jugular.

_Jerry! Jerry!_

"And more telling, she wouldn't know about your inability to perform in the bedroom. A perfect relationship, you continue your façade of play boy.. as your relationship proceeds to stall at first base."

_And one point for Miss Frost. _Charles mentally tallied. Miss Frost could be counted on bringing the entertainment and obviously casually bringing up emotional insecurities in a casual conversation. Needless to say, regardless of Jean's thoughts on the subject, Charles encouraged her residency for the entertainment she brought.

"You lie, Miss Frost!" the pimple faced thirteen year old shouted, turning his face towards Remy with absolute certainty, "Tell her Mr LeBeau! Tell her about the orgy in Memphis!"

"Do tell, Gambit. Was it exciting?" Miss Frost coyly purred, a smile spreading across her face.

The color drained from Gambit's face as he opened his mouth, looking for the witty retort that would regain his footing as the resident slut of the mansion and make Emma stop.

That witty retort?

Yeah, it never happened Charles noted as Remy jumped up from the table and stormed out of the room, tears running down his face.

Charles cringed as he heard the Ming vase in the hall wall shatter. Luckily, Charles did not trust the morons and their inability to control their mutations and it was a fake. Regardless, it was a very nice $20.99 reproduction.

Emma turned back to her magazine, ignoring the sound of adolescence hero worship heart break happening. Charles sighed, knowing that as a telepath, she heard it loud and clear.

_Emma? _Charles mentally nudged.

_Yes, Charles? _Emma responded sweetly.

_Remember we are in a school and it is healthy for these children to have a role model._

He heard her sigh telepathically and she raised her head from the Gucci ad, turning towards the heroless boys who were still sitting there, stunned over the bomb shell that rattled their world.

"Listen, Logan should have gone blind the amount of times he's gotten syphilis. His healing factor is the only thing stopping him from chopping off his ear like Van Gogh. If you want to hear particularly raunchy sex stories involving women of all types, he's your new best friend. He's had models as well as toothless bar flies who look like they were rode hard and put away wet. More exciting, he can teach you how to do this without having to wax your backs. Not that any of you have body hair yet, but all the more exciting as you all grow up," Emma offered in a bored tone. To any one listening unfamiliar with the blond telepath, but in Emma-ese, this was the equivalent of a hug and a new puppy.

Charles was unable to restrain his grin as the horde of boys moved across the room towards Logan and fawned at him like a Hercules in ancient Greek. Logan's perplexed head popped up from his steak and eggs as the mob surrounded him.

_Not exactly my first choice, Miss Frost. But I should have specified my intentions._

_Duly noted, sir. May I read this magazine in peace?_

_Tell me you didn't crush Remy's soul so that you would be able to study this season's trend in relative silence._

Charles shook his head at the telepathic silence. Some of his children needed to learn how to play well with others.


	3. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned

Yeah, I updated. It's been two years and I fully believe in updating once every two years. Call me George RR Martin without the TV show. Or a beard.

I want to give a nod out to my boos **Kinetically Charmed** and **Lizzie Turbo** who never cease to keep me entertained. I decided to update my story after listening to all their on-going plots. I'm dedicating this chapter to their respective blogs for Kitty and Rogue, if you haven't read them yet, for shame on you. SHAME!

_This means telepathic messages or thoughts, as usual._

Let's get this show on the road. Expect another update within the next week, loves. I need to proof it still.

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**Rogue's Bedroom**

"Reh-meh, what's wrong? You'arh cryin' harder tha' a blue tick hound wi'tha rubbah duhkay," the resident Southern belle whispered soothingly into her beau's ear. She was confused, to say the least. Rogue was deep in a dream involving Jeremy Renner roughly three minutes ago, until a person threw themselves into her bed. Normally, one would be excited by such a prospect; however, a sobbing man is usually not the ideal partner in such a fantasy.

Remy LeBeau began to sob harder in response, tears streaming down his face as he incoherently spewed out his injustices. The only continued theme, noted Rogue, was that Emma Frost was involved with a hymen and possibly an orgy in Memphis. Needless to say, Rogue was never skilled at party games. She was at a loss for what the meaning was. If he had said it was Colonel Mustard in the Study with the Candlestick, she would completely know what this was about: he had lost again in Clue. However, Emma Frost with a hymen (unlikely) at the orgy in Memphis was not an option in Clue. Rogue sighed and continued to soothingly pass the Cajun's back and hoped to God that someone would fill her in.

Ideally after a cup of coffee.

And pancakes.

Definitely pancakes.

**Confession Booth**

"Goddamn kids are following me around the mansion, all skippin' and shit behind me. Sayin' shit like OH MR LOGAN CAN I GET YOU A BEER at fookin' ten am. I'll be damned straight a grown ass man wants a beer that early, but fookin' rules here at the shack says no goddamn beer until after dinner during the week. I bet this bullshit is something Scooter is behind. Trying to get me kicked out. I'll show him. No goddamn kids are bringing me beer at breakfast and getting me kicked out so I can't continue to bang an amateur gymnast every night of the week. Hell no, I know a damn good thing. Fookin' Scooter," Logan raved. Running his hands through his hair and leaving cowlicks on either side. He glowered into the camera, before a positively feral expression flittered across his face. The Wolverine ripped out of the faux leather club chair and flung open the door to the hallway as he raced out like a bat out of hell.

**Confession Booth part Deux**

"..Is anyone in here?" Professor Xavier cautiously began as he poked his head in the door. The confessional chair was knocked over, but that didn't mean much when living with this motley crew. But being in a wheel chair isn't a bad gig. Frankly, he didn't enjoy touching the seats or communal areas of the mansion. The nasty side effect of being one the most skilled telepaths in the whole universe (other than random aliens asking for your help across the cosmos, that was getting old) is that you also were very aware of the personal hygiene levels of the various occupants of this school. And frankly, one would never touch the light switch at this place if one was aware. And telekinesis came in handy more often than not. Sighing loudly, he brought his fingers to his temples and breathed deeply. The chair quickly righted itself and moved away from the camera as the fearless leader maneuvered himself in front of the camera to begin his candid discussion away from prying eyes/ears/minds/ect.

"..and this is how I plan to solve that problem," Charles Xavier smiled, showing a Hollywood white smile. He recently had dipped into the emergency funds for a quick cosmetic refresh of veneers, Botox, and implants to make his arms look more muscular and "manly" – although none of the residents noticed, but he was thinking of purchasing some tight grey t-shirts to rectify that situation.

"Now, for the gala, I am having issues deciding on the type of paper to use for the invitations. Frankly, Stark Paper Company is a little passé and Kitty told me that this Etsy was the new place for invitations. I shall instruct her to make a suitable selection and have them sent out. She decorated suitably for the communal graduation party so I feel this will be well within her range. I had sent her an email prior to this candid chat with the necessary information," Charles smiled and nodded with an air of finality. With the confidence that one can only gain by having far too much disposable income and the ability to brain wash the world, Professor X rolled out of the room and back to the chaos of the mansion.

Charles offered a serene smiled as he passed Bobby in the hallway… true confession: every time Charles Xavier passed Bobby Drake, he mentally sang Chamillionaire's Ridin' Dirty. This was unrelated to anything, but a natural quirk that Charles had occurred whenever he passed Bobby in the hallway. Mr. Drake was a disappointment to Charles; he had expected someone who hailed from Long Island to have a Long Islandian accent. This was not true and a bit suspicious. One does not grow up in Long Island and escape without an accent. The most brilliant mind in the universe made a mental note to have a full background check spanning thirteen generations conducted on Drake. Or better yet, ask Kitty. Kitty knew how to utilize that Googles.

_Ya'll gonna see me riding dirrrtah… _Charles gave a slight nod of his head to Scott who was completely unaware that Logan had already declared war on the mutant known Cyclops. Charles cackled inwardly but kept his Mona Lisa smile as he continued to roll down the hall. _Haters going to hate _he mused as he opened his mind to find the next dramatic interaction amongst his students. Another reason why Charles kept the school open: the entertainment factor.


End file.
